


The Only One

by herstorystartedhere



Series: FitzSimmons Multiply [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstorystartedhere/pseuds/herstorystartedhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz pines over Simmons back in their Sc-Ops years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Another part of the Ed Sheeran (One) inspired ficlets:) Enjoy!

Fitz had never been more anxious as he was the night of Simmons’ big date. He knew that her boyfriend Rob was going to propose. He knew that Simmons was going to freak out and make a rash decision. He knew that she would either stay with her fiancée for the rest of their lives, or in an ideal situation she would take some time off to keep the FitzSimmons friendship alive. Fitz decided that a supportive best friend would help her through her decision to marry Rob, but he wasn’t a supportive best friend tonight. Instead, he was going to drown his sorrow and misery in some traditional Scottish whisky.  
He walked down to the pub on 3rd St, which always was open and looking for contenders in drinking games. He didn’t have quite enough experience there to have gained a reputation, but he was certainly there enough for them to know both his name and his high alcohol tolerance. “Hey, it’s young Dr. Fitzy!” The bartender called, walking over. “What are we havin’ this fine evening, Doctor?”  
“Just Fitz,” he smiled. “I’ll take the usual.”  
The bartender smiled. Fitz couldn’t remember his name, but aside from that he was almost like an older-brother. They talked about their homes in Scotland, their girl troubles, the newest football scores (note: THEIR football), and pretty much any other topic under the sun. “What’s up, Fitzy? Make any new scientific discoveries? Win a Nobel? Anything?”  
Fitz chuckled. “Girl problems.”  
“Aha!” the bartender shouted. “Is it that other genius that’s giving you trouble? The one from that one night—Jenna or something?”  
He thought about this. Jemma had come in a few times to have a drink after a particularly hard day at work, and once after a breakup with her last scum bag of a boyfriend. “Yeah, Jemma,” Fitz replied, “her boyfriend is going to propose to her tonight.”  
A drink slid over to Fitz. “Her boyfriend? Isn’t that you yet? Fitzy, you have a PhD. You should be plenty smart enough to ask her out yourself!” The man shook his head. “Is she going to say yes?”  
“Probably,” Fitz muttered.   
“Tough luck,” the bartender said, pouring some whisky for himself. “I thought you two’d make an excellent match.” He paused, and shouted into the pub, “To Fitzy! That his girl gives him a chance and they find happiness!”  
“To Fitzy!” the other drunkards toasted. Fitz doubted that they even knew who he was. He settled down at the bar and began tossing back shots like he didn’t care. He didn’t want to even think about Jemma at this point. Never again would he crush on a girl like that without making a move. Now it was too late. He should’ve told her... Fitz started getting fuzzy. With a flash of his credit card, he paid for his tab and then started ambling back to his flat. Which was across from... whose? A classmate perhaps? Fitz could hardly remember where his flat was, let alone who his neighbors were.  
He fumbled with his key and stepped inside his lonely flat. He didn’t have many friends. Actually, he probably only had one or two friends. Who were they? One of them was sitting on his couch. Was that normal? “Bloody hell,” he muttered, reaching over them to turn the lights on. It was a girl. Oh. Jemma. The details came swirling back so fast he tripped over a chair and crashed to the floor. Simmons woke up and jumped up from the couch.   
“Fitz! Where were you?” she cried, running over to help him onto a barstool. Her eyes were red, and her hair was a mess.  
“The pub,” he croaked, covering his ears. “Why are you here? You okay?”  
Simmons went to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee for him. “I came over to talk to you, and then I saw you weren’t here so I decided to wait for you—How drunk are you?!”  
He scratched the back of his head. “Enough drunk to forget about something important happening tonight? I don’t know, Jem, I had a good reason is all I remember.”  
She put a cup of coffee in front of him. “Really? Must’ve been something really bad then.” He could only nod. After a few cups of coffee and two ibuprofen, he felt well enough to stand up.   
“What did you need to talk to me about?” he asked. Her tears had dried by now, but her eyes were still a bit puffy and her voice was a little hoarse. She practically ran through his torso, she hugged him so hard.   
“Rob... he proposed to me. I said—I—said no,” she whimpered into his shirt. “It was too fast, and Rob’s a great guy, but—I couldn’t marry him Fitz. I couldn’t! He isn’t right for me, I was never going to be able to be with him forever... Why did he do this to me?” Fitz wrapped his arms around her and carried her over to the couch.   
“Shhhh... Its okay Jemma. Its okay. He shouldn’t have done that... You did the right thing.” What was he talking about? “Do you just want to stay here tonight?” She nodded. After a few scenarios ran though his head at 90 mph, Fitz stood up. “I’ll get you some different clothes. Here, come with me.” Simmons stood up and smoothed her dress out.  
They walked the four steps it took to get to his bedroom, where he handed her some sweats and a shirt. “I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said slowly,” you put these on and take the bed. Goodnight.” She kissed his cheek.  
“Fitz, can you just sleep in the bed too? I don’t want to be alone.” He could only nod.  
Whilst in the shower, Fitz thought about the whole situation. Sure, she was now single, but she also was very much alone. All of their friends had left the area in search of their own lives in peaceful suburbia. FitzSimmons thought that was both ridiculous AND a waste of talent. Why go through years of training, attain two PhDs, and then throw it all away? They must have really loved someone, Fitz thought. Did he like Jemma enough to throw away all of his hopes and dreams in science? Sadly, the answer was probably yes. He would probably throw away all of his hopes and dreams if Jemma asked and stayed with him. Simmons would never request such a thing, however, so regardless he was in the clear. He stepped out of the shower and got ready for bed.  
Simmons was sprawled out on his mattress, hugging a pillow and breathing softly. He stepped over to the bed and gently shook her. “Jemma,” he whispered, “If you’re going to share the bed, you've got to give me some room.” She yawned and sat up.  
“Sorry Fitz, I’m just tired.” He gave her one more hug and crawled under the covers. “Fitz?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.  
“Hmm?”  
“Thank you. You’re the only one that I could go to.”  
“Jem, you have lots of friends.” Fitz breathed, rolling over to face her.  
“Not exactly,” she said. “Just promise me that you’ll always be my friend and that you won’t leave me.”  
“I promise Simmons.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and fell asleep listening to the sound of her breath.


End file.
